Sick
by TheChicaChic
Summary: What happens when Ruth gets sick?
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Apparently being sick has prompted my muse to write. Set after 5.3 but as though 5.5 never happened and somehow the two have found themselves together. I apologize for any mistakes, it's almost 3 in the morning and I can't sleep.**_

* * *

It's 2.17 on the dot when Ruth realizes she's not going to make it in in the morning. She'd not been feeling the greatest the night before when she'd had a late meal of beans on toast. But at the time, she'd chalked it up to the long hours she'd been working and the lateness of the hour. Tummy rummbling, she'd put some food into a dish for the mogies and taken herself off to bed.

Once upstairs she'd changed into the oldest and softest t-shirt she had and a pair of loose, purple striped boxer-shorts she'd aquired from an ex sometime over the years, and crawled beneath the soft cotton of her sheets. There she'd curled on her side, the extra pillow from her bed clutched in her arms, as she'd tried to sleep.

Until she had awoken some hours later with the need to vomit. Mouth slick with saliva, she'd rushed to the hall bath, just lifting the loo lid in time to be sick.

Which is where she found herself now, bare legs curled to her side on the cold bathroom tile, her fingers gripping the porcelain sides of the toliet bowl as she rested her sweaty forehead against the rim. Her hair hung limply around her face, a stray lock hanging in front of her eyes. With stomach muscles clenching and an awful taste in her mouth, she weakly pulled herself up.

Arms wrapped around her middle, Ruth makes her way to the sink. Twisting the taps on, she fills a glass with the cool liquid and sips, swishing it round her mouth before spitting it out. She repeats this twice more before taking a flannel and soaking it. Then, lifting her eyes, she glances in the mirrow, grimmacing at the bloodshot eyes and broken blood vessels under her skin as she wipes her race.

Feeling slightly more human than she had just five minutes before, Ruth shuffles barefoot back to her room. Stopping at the waste bin, she dumps the few tissues from the bottom on the floor, vowing to pick them up in the morning, and places it by her nightstand. Climbing into bed, she hesitantly reaches for her mobile, wondering if she should wait till morning.

_No_, she thinks, _better to do it now incase your sleeping._

Flipping open the top, she quickly types a brief message to Harry, letting him know she won't be making it in come morning, that she's ill. Pressing send, she closes the mobile and sets it back on the nightstand. Then pulling the pillow back into her arms, she curls on her side and tries to sleep.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Ruth wakes with a start. For a moment, she thinks she's going to be sick again and reaches for the bin. The urge passes, for now, and she sets the bin back on the floor. Awake now, she listens to the sounds of the house around her, tensing at the soft click of the front door closing. It's the soft beeps of a number being typed into the alarm system and the heavy tread of feet on the steps that has her relaxing.

A minute later she's greeted to the rumpled site of Harry Pearce standing in the bedroom doorway. Clad in a loose pair of old, black running shorts, a gray MI5 training shirt, and scuffed trainers, she'd think he'd just been out for a run, were it not for the stuck-up whisps of blonde hair on his head and the fading crease of a pillow on his cheek.

That and Harry Pearce didn't run. Not anymore.

"What are you doing here?", she asks, watching as he toes off his trainers.

"I got your text," he replies, crossing the room to sit on the bed. "And after what happened the last time you supposedly texted out; or called me in the middle of the night; I had to be sure you were alright. Which clearly you're not."

His hand has moved to her cheek where he slowly cups the heated flesh with his palm.

Ruth turns her head, comforted by his touch, and closes her eyes. "I feel awful," she admits.

"What's wrong love?" he inquires softly, his skilled eyes taking in the changes from the last time he'd seen her.

Before she can answer, her stomach churns and she feels the need to be sick. Pushing him aside, she rushes from the bed to the bath, sinking to the floor as she empties the last of her stomach contents into the bowl. Subconsciously she's hating the fact that Harry will see her like this, heaving into a toliet, when the gentle touch of his fingers caress her neck. Before she can think much of it, he's gathering her hair from her face and kneeling on the floor beside her.

"Oh Ruth", he whispers, free hand rubbing her back soothingly.

"I'm sorry" she mumbles into the bowl, embarrassment flooding her at his seeing her like this, before her stomach once again turns.

"You've nothing to be sorry for."

They stay like that for awhile, crouched on the floor by the loo, until there's nothing left but bile in her stomach. Then achingly slowly, he helps her stand, his free arm sliding around her waist in support as he continues to hold her hair back. They make their way to the sink where once again Ruth rinses her mouth out. When she's done, Harry helps her back across the hall to her bed, where he helps her settle beneath the sheets.

"Try and get some rest." he says, hands tucking the duvet under her chin.

"Don't leave" she manages weakly, fingers reaching out to grasp his hand, all thoughts of earlier embarrassment gone as she seeks his comfort.

"I was just going to sleep in the guest room," he mumbles, "Let you have your space to rest."

"I want you to stay...if you want to that is."

"Of course I do." Leaning forward, he presses a lingering kiss on her lips.

"I taste like sick." She mutters, and "you'll catch what I have."

"Budge over" he says, ignoring her as he slips beneath the sheets beside her. Arms wrapping gently around her middle, he holds her close. "Try and get some sleep."

"Mmkay" she whispers, eyes fluttering closed as he softly brushes his fingertips against her forehead.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

"And you've my number if you need anything?"

Eye peeping open, Ruth stares at him, watching as he stands next to the bed, tie hanging loosely around his neck.

"Never mind, silly question." Leaning down, Harry brushes the hair from her forehead, his lips pressing softly against it. "And you're sure you'll be alright with Scarlet?"

"Harry, go to work."

He mumbles a yes dear before thinking of the implications and freezes, worrying that he's said the wrong thing. But either Ruth does not realize what he's said or it's less of a deal then he believes because she doesn't say anything.

She just rolls over; moaning as her stomach churns; and reaches a hand out from under the duvet to pet the dog that has settled to her left. Fingers scratching behind Scarlet's ears, she looks up at Harry. "We'll be fine."

"Okay." He says quietly, leaning down a final time to brush his lips against her forehead before leaving.

* * *

As he reaches the downstairs, he grabs his keys and ensures his mobile is in his pocket before opening the front door. Re-setting the alarm, he leaves, shutting and locking the door behind him. As he walks down the front path, he turns to look up at the bedroom window, spotting Fidget on the sill watching him. The cat meows once before turning and jumping down.

Walking to his car, he looks around the neighborhood. It's a nice enough, a mix of single-family homes and converted flats, but not for the first time, Harry wishes she lived somewhere more secure. Too much foliage and other obstacles making her vulnerable for an attack or nabbing should someone wish to harm her.

Perhaps in time he'll be able to convince her to move somewhere more...with him.

* * *

"Carter."

"Adam, it's Harry." Slowing to a stop at the intersection, Harry leans back in his seat and looks around. Traffic is heavier in this part of London and not for the first time, he's glad that he's left early. "I'm on my way to Whitehall but you need to know, Ruth won't be in today."

"Really?" Through the phone, Harry can hear something that he doesn't want to analyze and does _not_ want to get back to Ruth. Not while they're still keeping their relationship under wraps.

Voice low and controlled, he says "She sent a text message early this morning that she's sick. n Turning into the secure underground car park, he pulls into his assigned spot, sitting there.

"Harry, are you sure she's alright? Remember the last time she called off."

The worry is evident in Adam's voice now and Harry's pleased that the others; at least some of them; care for Ruth almost as much as he does.

"She's fine." He reaches over for the attaché case on the passenger seat before continuing. "I thought the same thing and so I stopped over on my way in. She answered the door looking really rough."

"Alright. I'll call personnel and have them send up a temp. We've nothing of importance happening now, just filing and general office work from the last mission. Nothing a temp and Jo can't handle cleaning up." He pauses a moment and Harry can hear him writing something down. "And while I'm at it, I'll call over to Ruth's and see if she needs anything. Let her know not to come in tomorrow unless we've got a Red Flash."

"You're being awful nice." Harry says, voice measured as he wonders just what his Section Chief is playing at.

"Yeah well...I have a date with that blonde from SAS we worked with on the last case. I'd like to not come down with whatever Ruth has _before_ I get...umm...dinner."

"Charming."

With that, Harry disconnects the call and climbs from the car.

* * *

" 'lo?" Voice low, Ruth pulls the phone under the pillows with her.

"Ruth? It's Adam."

"Adam?" Confused, she pushes herself up and looks around. Harry should have let him know she wouldn't be in.

"How are you?"

"Umm...sick?"

"That's what Harry said when he called. Do you need anything?"

"No." She's more confused than before and briefly wonders if she's sicker than she originally thought. "I've everything I need."

"Good, good. Just calling to make sure you didn't need anything. And let you know you're not to come in tomorrow unless we've a Red Flash."

"Alright."

"And if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Okay."

After they hang up, she lies back against the pillows, her stomach fuzzy but calmer than it was the night before. On one side, the two cats lie, each licking the other which Scarlet sits on her other, watching her intently.

"You're making sure I don't move, aren't you?" she asks, the dog.

As she's answered with a woof, she takes that as an affirmative that Harry has ordered the dog to be her babysitter. With a smile, she pats the dogs head before sliding down and dozing off.

* * *

The sun's just setting when Harry lets himself back into Ruth's. It's quiet as he resets the alarm and looks around. Aside from a side light, the downstairs is dark. After making sure the door's locked, he makes his way upstairs, expecting to find Ruth asleep. Instead he finds her propped up against the pillow, book in her lap and animals sitting with her.

"Hi." he says, a smile on his face as he stops in the doorway.

Looking up from her book, she smiles back. "Hi yourself."

Crossing the room, he settles next to her. Giving Scarlet a pet as she sticks her head under his hand, he leans over to kiss Ruth softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright. A bit hungry actually."

"Have you managed to keep anything down today?" Looking at the bedside table, he sees a cup of tea and some biscuits.

"A bit this afternoon."

"Hmm. Good. How about some soup?"

"That sounds good but," hand reaching out, she lies it on his arm, "you don't need to make it. I can do it."

"Nonsense. I want to take care of you." Squeezing her hand, he pushes off the bed. "Rest. I'll bring it up when it done."

"Alright."

As he crosses the room, she calls out and he stops. Turning back, he spots her fidgeting with the duvet.

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

Blushing at the endearment, she speaks softly. "Are you...are you staying tonight?"

"Do you want me to?" he asks, a grin on his face.

"Yes."

"Then I will."

**tbc**

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_**AN: Thank you all for the reviews. I foresee two or three more chapters at most with this.**_


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